Forgotten
by Aishiteru
Summary: The transition of hitokiri to rurouni. Kenshin, still grieving for Tomoe, meets Kaoru. The catch? She's still a child. How can she help still his grief and remorse?
1. Part 1

The Kamiya Dojo is a busy, noisy and. . .well, it must be said, a chaotic place. Amidst all the 'loving' arguing, pushing and fighting, it's hard to get little things like laundry and cooking done, much less contemplate.  
  
And a certain rurouni is always kept occupied.  
  
However, tucked away in his room, in a drawer empty of everything else, there is a tanto in a worn sheath resting on a length of tattered blue cloth. The soft folds are slightly threadbare in places, and there are remnants of bloodstains in others.   
  
But it is spotlessly clean.  
  
Every now and then, in quieter moments, the rurouni will open the drawer, and look at these two items, the only things he has kept from a period in his life he'd really rather forget.  
  
However, there are some things a man should never forget.

* * *

Forgotten  
By Aishiteru  


* * *

Dust from caked the hem of his grey hakama, and the black socks he wore beneath battered sandals. He moved through the crowd quietly, avoiding the laughing children, the gossiping woman, and the haggling shop keepers and prospective buyers. Long black tinted red bangs slid over his cheek, concealing the distinctive cross shaped scar on his cheek. In addition, a scarf was folded around his neck, and he slumped into it, further masking his face. His blue - almost violet in certain lights - colored eyes were carefully cast down.  
  
"Himura-san?" a voice asked in quiet tones to his far left. A middle-aged, yet fit man fell into step next to him. He looked familiar. "Ano, Katagai isn't feeling well."  
  
He nodded shortly. Katsura had told him that they would be using their dead comrades name as the recognition signal. "I'd better see him, then."  
  
They set off down the road. That man. . .who was he? Kenshin dredged through his memories. A face at Headquarters, a quieter, stable voice during many a heated meeting. There. Kamiya Koshijiro. Master of Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu.  
  
"It's good to see you again, Himura-san. Katsura-san said to tell you that you need to rest here for a while, and that that is an order."  
  
"Sou ka."  
  
"My dojo isn't very far from here. We shouldn't be bothered there."

* * *

"Tadaima!"  
  
" Tousan!" A childish voice called. Seconds later, a dark haired blur flung itself into Koshijiro's arms.   
  
"Maa, be careful with an old man, Kaoru-chan!" the man laughed, bouncing the girl on his hip.  
  
"Koishii! Okaerinasai!" A woman entered, immaculately garbed in a white and blue patterned kimono. She stopped when she saw Kenshin standing next to her husband. "Ano. . .Welcome to the Kamiya Dojo, stranger. I am Kamiya Hanako. Are you here to learn from my husband?"  
  
Kenshin shook his head slightly, while next to him Koshijiro made a slight choking sound.   
  
"Ah. . .Kaoru-chan, why don't you show Himura-san around the dojo. I need to talk to kaasan, ne?"   
  
"Hai, hai, tousan!" The small girl slipped from her father's grasp, landing nimbly on her feet. She tilted her small face up, until she was looking full into Kenshin's bemused face. "Hajimemashte, Himura-san. I'm Kaoru. What would you like to see?"  
  
He shrugged, and she made a face, then grabbed his hand. "Ano. . .I know, we can see the fountain! And then we can feed the fish!" She pulled him further into the house, a steady stream of chatter following.  
  
"Koshijiro? What's wrong?" Hanako looked at him in concern. Her face was beautiful, her eyes a very deep blue. Kaoru was her very image.  
  
"Eto. . .Hana-chan, hear me out, please. Our guest. . .a~a. . ." He trailed off. How does one tell one's wife that the most feared assassin in Japan was staying at their house?  
  
"Koshijiro?"  
  
"Hana-chan. . .his name is Himura Kenshin. He's a very quiet young man, he shouldn't cause any trouble, ne. . ."  
  
She relaxed, a smile blossoming across her features. "Koshijiro. Were you afraid I'd be angry you sprung a guest on us like this? With the amount of room a dojo has-"  
  
"He's the Hitokiri Battousai." He blurted it out quickly, then braced himself.  
  
Her words stopped dead, her mouth still hanging open.  
  
"He won't cause any trouble, he's not an assassin anymore. . .'  
  
"Koshijiro. . ."  
  
"Mou, I promise, he won't, he's an honourable young man. . ."  
  
"Koshijiro."  
  
"I've known him for a long time, ne, and I've never seen him a fight for the sake of fighting. . ."  
  
"KOSHIJIRO!"  
  
"E. . .Eh?"  
  
"Did you just. . .say. . .that that young man. . .who can't be more then sixteen. . .is the Hitokiri Battousai. . ._and_ is staying at our home?"  
  
". . . .Hai."  
  
"AND YOU JUST SENT OUR JOU-CHAN OFF WITH HIM?"  
  
"Ano. . .he won't hurt her. . ."  
  
Too late. Hanako was already hurrying off as fast as her kimono would permit her. Well, actually faster. Koshijiro sighed, and hoped none of students were around to see the provocative sight of his wife's legs. Most of them were already secretly in love with her.

* * *

"And that one's Akai, 'cos he's the only red one, and that one's Tabetai, because he's always eating. . .How'd you get that scar?"  
  
Kenshin blinked, having become accustomed to just listening to the girl's flow of talk. "Eto. . ." He was saved by the emergence of Kamiya-san's wife.  
  
"Daijobu, Kaoru-chan? Hai, hai, well, it's time for your bath!" She seemed slightly out of breath, and Kenshin looked at her, brows drawing together slightly in puzzlement. After all, ladies never ran. Especially ladies garbed in kimono. Wisps of hair drifted around her face, and her kimono _did _seem slightly disheveled.  
  
"Demo. . .kaasan!" Kaoru protested. "I just had one, I'm not dirty!"  
  
"Not buts, Kaoru. Off we go. Ano, dinner should be in an hour, H-Himura-san. . ." She hurried off, shepherding a complaining little girl in front of her protectively.  
  
Kenshin sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. Obviously, Kamiya-san had told her who he was.

* * *

Dinner was strained. The Kamiya Dojo currently had about ten students present, and they all dined with the Kamiya family. Koshijiro's pupils all talked loudly about the day, asking questions from their shishou, and boasting of what they had done during the day. ("Ne, a hundred pull ups? I did two hundred last week!")  
  
Under all this, Kenshin quietly, methodically ate, not raising his eyes from his bowl. Whenever he did, Kamiya's wife had a tendency to drop things. The first time it was rice. The next time it was miso soup. On Koshijiro.   
  
After that, Kenshin did not lift his gaze, nor attempt to thank her or speak. The conversation flowed around him; it always did. He felt more alone then ever.  
  
_Tomoe. . .I will make your death mean something. I will not give up. I cannot.  
  
_"Ne, Himura-san, shishou says you are very skilled. Perhaps you could give us some pointers? Or perhaps we could spar!"   
  
He looked up, at the boy seated across from him. Although Kenshin knew he couldn't have been more then a year older then the boy, he suddenly felt ancient. There was such anticipation in Kamiya-san's pupil's eyes, such pleasure at the thought of learning. He averted his eyes from that misguided innocence.  
  
"Iie. I do not think I will fight here."  
  
He could almost feel Kamiya's wife sigh in relief. The student looked like he was going to protest, but she cut in quickly. "Takashi! Don't bother Himura-san. I'm sure he wishes to rest."

"Hai."  
  
Dinner finished with no further conversation, but Kenshin was subject to many speculative looks. He absently rubbed his scar.  
  
It ached.

* * *

**Thwack.**  
  
Kenshin stared out of the window, at the harvest moon shining clear in the dark velvet blue of the night sky.  
  
_I had forgotten how beautiful the harvest moon is.  
  
I saw red dragonflies this evening. I can't help but wonder what will happen to us. . .How long will we be able to stay here?  
  
For a while. That's all I can say.  
  
_**Thwack.**  
  
Again, that steady sound roused him through his memories. He rose to his feet, and padded over, bare footed, to the window, to see who was practicing at this unreasonable hour. Everyone should be asleep by now. Yet for the past half hour, he had been hearing the beats of someone training with a sword, a steady repetitive beat. Whoever it was, they were just out of his line of sight.  
  
Without really thinking about it, Kenshin pulled on something more decent then just his sleeping robe, and left his moonlight flooded room. He doubted he would sleep much tonight anyway.  
  
Why had Katsura sent him here? He disliked being at loose ends; leisure gave him too much time to think, and not enough to do. . .  
  
**Thwack.**  
  
He stopped, looking at the scene before him with incredulous eyes.  
  
Wielding a bokken hopelessly too large for her was Kamiya-san's little daughter, Kaoru. Her small face was scrunched up in concentration, lower lip caught between her teeth. Nonetheless, her moves were surprisingly proficient for a child, and Kenshin recognized her father's patented style in her slow practice swings. She was swinging the wooden sword against a taut rope, thus producing those _thwacks_ he had been hearing for the past thirty minutes.  
  
She stopped for a moment, leaning on her weapon, and wiped her forehead against the long sleeve of her robe. Long heavy strands of hair escaped from the clumsy ponytail she had no doubt put up herself. She rested for perhaps a minute, then resumed her swings, though he noticed her arms were starting to shake.  
  
Without thinking about any consequences, Kenshin called out. "You'd do better if you didn't lock your wrists like that."  
  
The bokken went flying from from grip to land with a clatter on the floorboards.

* * *

_Author's Note: Well, what do you think? I've only seen the OVA, so I'm kind of nervy of diving into a RuroKen fic. I've read up on the Internet, though. I wish they would air the episodes here though! They don't even have them at the video store! Ah well, I'm the proud owner of "Trust" and "Betrayal" , so I'll survive. This isn't A/U; somehow I'm trying to weave it into the storyline as best as I know it. Forgive me if I make mistakes with it, or with the Japanese culture. If you want to read truly great Kenshin fics, read "The Darkest Shadows, The Brightest Lights," by Naga, or "A Rurouni' s Guide to Idiocy" by Gochan. These two rather different fics are what have inspired me to write.  
  
Japanese Words:  
(If I've gotten some wrong, mail me.)  
  
-chan = familiar, affectionate add on to name  
daijobu = i'm okay / are you okay?  
demo = but  
iie = no  
hai = yes  
hajimemashte = how do you do/nice to meet you  
kaasan = mother ( Beijin said that you call your parents haha/ chichi, but refer to them as okaasan / otousan. But I learnt that it was the other way around. Peculiar. For now, I'm sticking to it my way, because I've read lots of fics that do it that way, even though Beijin has something like a decade's worth of speaking japanese.)  
koishii = beloved, darling  
okaerinasai = welcome home (in reply to tadaima)  
-san = mister/miss/mrs.  
shishou = master  
sou ka = i see  
tadaima = I'm home ( always said)  
tanto = dagger  
tousan = father  
  
Names:  
Akai = red  
Hanako = Little Flower (Because Kaoru's name means sweet smell, or fragrance, or something like that. I looked it up in the dictionary.)  
Tabetai = to want to eat  
_


	2. Part 2

_When you died, I wanted to die too, Tomoe.   
  
Without you the sky was grey, and the blood rain poured from the heavens, until I thought I would drown. Yet I struggled on, because to simply _die_, as I longed to, would make your death meaningless. It would make your first love's , Kiyosato's, death meaningless  
  
It would make all the deaths of those who have fallen to my blade meaningless._

_There was murder; there was protection; and there was pain. And I wondered when would the new world come, and slowly, I began to lose all hope. _

_And then I met her._

_I brought more bloodshed and suffering into her life. However, I. . .loved her. In someway, perhaps she reminded me of you, or maybe how I thought or imagined you had been before my sword had stolen your smiles and your joy. Or maybe I loved her simply because she was a child, innocent of what a drear place the world could be.  
  
Perhaps it was simply because she was not afraid of me.  
  
With her, I found our summer sky blue in her sapphire eyes. In her smiles, I found my own laughter. In her, I found a lost happiness. I do not know if I truly deserve her still, but she seems happy. She loves me.  
  
. . .You both loved me. You both saved me. You tamed Battousai. She tamed the Rurouni.  
  
And now there is only Kenshin.   
  
Tomoe-chan. . .I am happy._

* * *

Forgotten  
By Aishiteru

* * *

The bokken went flying from her grip to land with a clatter on the floorboards.

She spun around, her eyes childishly wide, though their bright colour had been leeched away by the moonlight. "Ano. . .Himura-san! Please don't tell kaasan you caught me practicing! Please!" Her lower lip began to shake.  
  
He looked down at her seriously. "Why don't you want me to?"

She fidgeted underneath his steady stare, then blurted it out in a long torrent of words. "Kaasan says that it's not ladylike for me to be practicing with a sword, and she wants me to be a lady like her, but I want to learn how to defend myself, just like tousan, and Takashi-kun, and Akida-kun and Nobuhiro-kun and it's not fair! I'm supposed to always dress in kimono and learn how to tie up my hair, but that's just _boring, _ne? It's not like I don't want to learn how to be like kaasan though; but I don't see why I can't learn the sword too. . .Tousan was teaching me, but I can't practice, because kaasan gets upset. . ."

He looked at her for another long moment, wondering what in Kami's name he was supposed to do. It wasn't any of his business. . .

"I won't tell." He said shortly. "But you should go to bed, Kaoru-chan. It's very late, and I could hear you practicing from my room. Your mother might wake up, ne?"

She nodded eagerly, even as the ribbon that had been haphazardly keeping her hair back finally gave up, and tumbled free. Long blue-black strands sprang free, clouding in a dark tangle around her small face. "A-arigato, Himura-san. Oyasumi nasai!"   
  
She ran past him, scooping up her bokken along the way.

* * *

'Himura-san! Ohayo!! Breakfast is ready!" Kaoru's voice chirped from the doorway, as she slid the panel back. "Himura-san. . ." her eyes scanned the unused bedding, rounding in surprise as she surveyed the room, finally discovering him in the corner by the open window, his body embracing his katana, as his head rested lightly on his chest in slumber. Even as she watched, his eyes slowly opened, and he looked up, though she sensed he had been aware of her presence even before she had opened the door.

"Ohayo, Kaoru-chan."

She beamed. "Kaasan says that breakfast is ready, and are you ready to eat?"

"Hai."

* * *

Silence, except for the nervous ring of chopsticks against against the rim of a bowl. Distantly, Kenshin could hear the shouts of Kamiya-san's students practicing, the echo of footfalls against polished wood, the sigh of wind as several bokkens came down in unison.

He forced himself to eat, slowly, methodically, although the scene reminded him unbearably of too few mornings spent in _her_ presence, where they had eaten together, then checked on the crops, or gone to the village to sell medicine. . .Even the silence was a reminder, the smell of white plum blossums drifting on the air. . .Kamiya-san's wife wore that scent too. . .

Absently, his left hand rose to his scar. During the months where it had wept almost constantly, he had grown use to cupping his face so, making sure the blood did not trickle down to his clothes. The landlady had grown tired of having to wash his gi everyday, and hadn't hesitated to tell the Hitokiri Battousai to his face.

"Himura-san."

"Hai?"

"Do you want any more?" Kamiya Hanako indicated the miso left in the middle of the table. There was still fear in her eyes, but also determination. 

"No thank you."

"Himura-san!" The door opened in a hurry. "Gomen nasai. . .Can you do me a favour?" Kamiya-san peered around the corner, looking rather harassed. With the opening of the door the sound level went up, and Kenshin could hear a chorus of "Shishou! How do I. . .Look at. . ."

"What?" His voice was dispassionate, his tone so disinterested as to be almost rude. However, the overrun instructor of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu did not seem to notice, but merely smiled rather embarrassedly. 

"Ee, Himura, I'm sorry to impose, but could you possibly escort my wife and Kaoru-chan to the market? Normally, I would have one of my instructors to do it, but the dojo is full up today and it's not safe in town for a woman and child-"

"It's fine." He wouldn't have done anything anyway today. Only solitude, and the sight of her smiling tearstreaked face, racked by pain, but that smile that he had loved shining through it, like the sun though the snow. . .

_Gomen nasai. . .my. . .darling. . ._

"Heee, we're ready to go Himura-san." A childish voice thankfully broke through his memories. He rose to his feet, and looked at her smiling face, and then was startled when she slipped her small hand into his.

* * *

"Rice! Rice! Get your rice!"

"Two bags!"

"How much do you need?"

"Give it here!"

The market place was hideously busy. People bustled to and through, arguing over the extortionate price of fish, of sake, of silk, of anything that could possibly be bargained down. All in all, a thriving maket. However, there was a darker element, one man in five wearing some sort of arms, some concealed, others worn in open menace. There were children, but they did not run in open play, but were kept close to the folds of a woman's kimono. Worse yet, there was not one stall that did not have some sort of guard.

Hanako looked on with some despair at the fighting crowd in front of the rice sellers, as the trio from the Kamiya dojo emerged from a shadowed side street, arms laden with baskets of groceries. "Maa. . .I'm never going to get through there to get rice. . .And we're completely out!"

"Wait here."

She backed up a step. "Himura-san. . .ano. . .you don't have to. . ."

But the young man had already melted into the crowd.

She frowned, feeling a disquiet within her. He was supposed to be a bloody handed killer, a demon who knew no mercy, and slew man, woman and child alike. Not this quiet contemplative young man, who carried such sorrow within his blue-grey-violet eyes. She had seen it, and an unexpected guilt in those expressive eyes. . .odd times, like when she had offered him more miso, or last night when foolish young Takashi had challenged him. _Thank the gods he didn't accept. . .Thank you, gods. . ._

"What a pretty young woman! Too pretty to be wandering the streets so alone, with a little girl, ne?"

Hanako spun, seizing Kaoru with one hand, and keeping her behind her. Two men were smiling at her, in a way that made her blood run cold. Were they looking at Kaoru. . .no! She made an effort to smile, then replied easily, "I thank you for your concern. However, my. . .brother has just gone to get the rice. He'll be back soon."

". . .Really. . .How interesting. You're brother, you say?" They slouched forward, insolent smiles widening. "Perhaps he'll be gone for just long enough a moment. . ."

"Daijoubu, Kamiya-san?" a quiet voice said behind her. A heavy ricebag, one she would have considerable trouble lifting - and she was not weak, despite her looks - was casually tucked under one arm of Himura Kenshin. His eyes stared with undeniable menace at the two men, yet he seemed slight in the shadows, scarcely able to defend himself, much less two women against these two brawny men.

Evidently, they thought so too.

One made gave a dismissive wave with one hand. "Beat it. We just want to. . .talk. . .with your pretty "sister", ne?" He leered, then grabbed her wrist. Hanako snatched it away, even as a rice bag hurtled over her head to land squarely on the man's chest, knocking him over on impact. 

"Daijoubu?" Himura asked again to her. His face was still a calm still mask, the eyes hooded and sorrowful. There was no anger present. . .except something flashed like amber in his eyes. HIs words were quiet, and even.

"Daijoubu, Himura-san!" Kaoru peered around her, then walked fearlessly up to the young man. "That was so cool! You just threw it. . .and down he went. . ."

"Hee! Kisama!!" The other man was charging straight for them. . .She saw amber in his eyes again, even as he pivoted on one foot, simultaneously pushing her out of the way, and positioning Kaoru directly behind him. His hand flashed to his waist, drawing a sword, sheathe and all, as he swept in front of him in a wide arc. The man went sprawling.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye, so fast that Hanako had not even had enough time to draw enough breath to scream.

She began to tremble. . .it was too much. . ._Kaoru. . ._It was so easy to imagine, for without the sheathe, the bloody images of murder playing through her mind's eye would have been a reality. . .as no doubt they had been a reality countless times. . .

The world darkened and the last thing she saw was the sun striking the blood-red highlights in his hair, and the cross scar he bore on his left cheek.

* * *

"Kaasan!" Kaoru ran to her mother, managing to almost halt her painful fall to the ground. Kenshin turned, his eyes widening slightly. . .she was falling. . .the snow swirled blindingly around him, blood streaming from his scar. . .

_Tomoe. . ._

The scent of white plum blossums. . .petals falling endlessly. . ._Tomoe where are you, I can't see you, love. . ._

"Kaasan. . .wake up. . .wake up. . ." Kaoru was pulling at her mother's kimono frantically, almost sobbing in her panic. Pushing away the veil of memories -_Katsura-san, why did you send me here, I don't want time to think, I can't, all I can see is her, when I do not fall into an exhausted slumber, I dream of her, and the blood rain.- _Kenshin pushed his wakizashi back through his belt, then turned to the frantic girl.

"Saa, it's alright, Kaoru-chan. See, she's just fainted." He gently pulled her away, then felt Hanako's pulse, and checked her eyes. Fainted. "Let's get her home, Kaoru-chan. We have enough food." He hoisted Kamiya-san's unconscious form over one shoulder, then took up the rice, and several baskets. "Hold this one Kaoru. You're going to have to carry it, ne? Can you manage?"

"H-hai, Himura-san." Her blue eyes were anxious as she looked up at him. 

* * *

_Thank Kami that the Kamiya dojo is fairly close. . ._

Despite all the exercises Shishou had used to set him; toting rocks, and buckets of water and such, Kenshin was heartilly relieved when they finally reached the street of the dojo. He didn't know his way around Edo, and had to rely on Kaoru's memory. 

She had only gotten them lost once. He looked at her with some concern, at the weary feet dragging in the dust, and how her small arms trembled with the weight of the baskets. 

"We're almost there, Kaoru-chan. Just a bit longer."

She turned up her small face, framed by the strands of loose black hair that had escaped her wide blue ribbon, and smiled tiredly. "Daijoubu."

The dojo. . .Hanako was becoming increasingly heavy. As was the rice. And the vegetables. And the sake bottle that had been banging into his leg for the last half hour.

Kaoru set the basket down with a wider smile, then slid the doors back for him. "Tadaima!" she called.

Her father almost seemed to materialize; they _were_ an hour or so late. "Kaoru!" he cried. There was worry etched into the lines of face. He looked behind his daughter, at the weary grocery hung form of the Hitokiri Battousai, carrying his wife over one shoulder. "Hanako!"

* * *

_Author's Note: Yes, this chapter was silly and angsty. Hee hee, Kenshin fighting with rice bags. . .and being draped with vegetables. . .that amuses me. Not much happened. . .don't worry, something _is_ going to happen. Thanks for all your reviews!_

_Japanese:_

_Oyasumi nasai = Good night_

_Ohayo (gozaimasu) = good morning_


	3. Part 3

"So...Battousai has been sighted in Edo."  
  
"Yes. By a reliable informant, sir."

"Hmm...We cannot be certain that he isn't being used as a decoy again. Investigate thoroughly first, Captain. Then inform me. I will decide what has to be done. We cannot allow Battousai to escape again."

"I see."

"You're dismissed."

* * *

Forgotton  
By Aishiteru

* * *

_Weeks. Weeks have gone by, and still Katsura-san has not called me back._

Kenshin paced impatiently, his nervous energy demanding an outlet. It did not suit him to be simply idle, when so many innocents were being caught in the crossfire between the Shogunate and the Ishin Shishi. If only he could be _doing _something useful! Lying idle gave him too much time to think...

_Strange, how months could flee past like seconds, yet seconds could slow to eons...It took so long for me to realize what you made me feel, Tomoe, and it took only seconds for you to fling yourself between me and my would-be killer, only for you to be slain..._

_Tomoe..._

He sat abruptly, raking a trembling hand through his hair.

_Why doesn't Katsura send for me? He is in danger every time I am not with him...I am not doing _anyone _any good here. Least of all myself._

He raised desperate eyes to scan the dojo's pure lines. Distantly, he could hear the sound of people practicing, and the quiet slosh and clink of dishes being washed. This place...It was like he thought he could have had. 

But never again. Never again would he feel the fleeting touch of her hand trail across his face, nor smell the delicate fragrance of white plum, and know it was she who tended to him while he slept, nor hear her quiet voice in the morning, in the evening, the sound and smile he lived for.

So long since he had seen a gentle gracious woman, so like all the graces Tomoe had had. And it was tearing things open inside him, seeing Koshijiro and his wife together, with their daughter, scars he thought were nothing but dull aches anymore. The flowers she gathered or bought in the morning. The peace on her still pale face as she arranged them in the evening. The inquiring way she tilted her face, the gentle quiet sound of her footsteps...

_I stayed...because I think you need a sheath to hold back the madness._

_I think that Tomoe can still be a sheath for your ungovernable rage._

_Tomoe..._

_I'm losing to it again. I'm drowning in the madness, and everything tastes of blood. _

_Anata..._

"Himura? Is that you?"

Kenshin's head jerked up, and his eyes widened in horror. "Katsura-san!"

* * *

Kaoru had had a busy day. First there was helping Kaasan clean up. Then she had helped Emiko with the laundry, wringing everything out, and pinning it up while perching precariously on another upturned wash basin. Then she had gone with Tousan to check up on another dojo...and got into a rather lively mud fight with some of the younger sons of the master there, which had ended with her soundly beating them all, being dragged home, her yukata a disgrace, and being dumped in the bath again. Yuck.

And it wasn't even lunch time yet.

Now she was going to tell Himura it was lunch time, but she couldn't find him. Normally he just stayed in his bedroom, although a lot of the time she could coax him into playing with her...He was a lot more fun then most of Tousan's students, who were all obsessed with training. There was only one other place...sometimes he would go into the back garden, though never on nice days, only horrible cloudy ones like today...

"Himura-nii? Are you here?"

She paused when she saw there was a strange man with him. Another stranger?

"Who's this?" The strange man asked.

Himura shook his head - impatiently she thought, a little confused. Himura was never impatient. "Kamiya-san's daughter. Kaoru-san," -more gently- "Would you please get your father?"

"Right," She replied. If Tousan was going to know about this strange man, then he was fine.

* * *

"Katsura-san," Kenshin repeated himself. "What are you doing here? It's dangerous for you to be wandering around unguarded."

Katsura Kogoro - his master of three years - simply smiled, lines of exhaustion lightly etched into his sharp featured face. "I'm fine, Himura. Just tired. In fact it's safer for me to travel on my own; anyone with guards is _known_ as important for sure." He chuckled quietly, laughter that Kenshin was unable to share in. "I'll be fine after a little rest. No, I came this way to warn you of something Himura..."

Kenshin's eyes narrowed, and he nodded curtly.  
  
"...And I have a favour to ask of you."

His face felt colder then ever as it set into hard grim lines, but Himura Battousai accepted the slender black envelope and tucked it into his sleeve.

It looked like the rain of blood would fall once again.

* * *

_When will you stop killing?_

"Who are you!? Answer me!"

Once, a very long time ago, another man had asked him those words. And in arrogance, a young Hitokiri had replied "A Choshuu Ishin Shishi. Himura Battousai."

And that night, Battousai had stolen Tomoe's happiness.

_Who am I?_

_You did it...You made the blood rain fall._

"I am the bringer of the blood rain. And for the sake of the new era...you must die."

The man stumbled back, eyes flashing white in panic, thick coarse hands closing convulsively around the hilt of his sword. "Red hair...A cross scar..." Kenshin heard him mutter feverishly. "It's the demon...Battousai..."

_A demon...yes. _

The hiss of his sword escaping it's scabbard impacted on his ears, even as he sped forward, feet slapping slightly on cobbled stones, red hair flashing past his eyes. 

_there is nothing but this_

The other man blocked desperately; Kenshin could feel his mad unreasoning terror -_I don't want to die-_ flaring like the dying embers of a fire, even as Battousai's sword cut with unerring precision, stabbing cleanly through the man's throat. A hot splatter of blood sprayed out, spilling onto his face, tangling in the threads of his flame bright hair, bringing with it a smell like no other. Clean, sharp, and metallic, it was the scent of sorrow and guilt.

_this and her tears_

His eyes quiet, the hard amber gleam absent once again, Kenshin quietly slid his sword free, letting the body drop to the ground. Messy...But then again he had not assassinated anyone for a long time. A year...a year since...

_ and her smile...her words..._

Efficiently, methodically, he cleaned the blood off his sword, shining it until the blade gleamed pure and silver in the bright moonlight, then turned to leave, slipping the weapon back into it's sheath. But not before he took a long look at the man's face, another face that would haunt his dreams at night.

* * *

The dojo was silent when he returned, and Kenshin had no wish to disturb the peace. He quietly padded through the corridors, exiting out to the back to stand by the well. His swords he unhooked and placed within easy reach, and then he drew a bucket of water up. There was blood crusted in his hair, and on his clothes and face. Without pause, he swung the sloshing pail up in a smooth easy arc, and let the bitterly cold water wash over his body. Again. And again.

_There is not enough water in the world to ever wash me clean._

Again.

"Himura? What are you doing having a bath with your clothes on?" A sleepy puzzled voice asked from behind him. He turned slowly, long bangs dripping water down his face and neck to disappear down below his gi. 

"What are you doing awake, Kaoru-san?" He asked the little girl.

"I heard a noise and you still didn't answer me." There was vague exasperation in her childish voice, children always seemed to knew when he tried to evade questions. Strange, he didn't remember having that ability when he was younger. Other adults must be better at evading questions then him. 

"Well," he said casually, crouching in front of her so they were eye to eye. "I don't suppose you'd believe that I forgot to take my clothes off would you?"

She giggled, and at that carefree sound, he smiled himself. 

_For this girl...For all children...I want them all to be able to laugh like this._

"Unh unh," she said, shaking her head. "You're pretty silly, but not that silly!"

"Hmm," he murmured. "Well, how about this. My clothes were dirty too, and I wanted to save time by washing me and them at the same time."

Her small brow furrowed as she considered this, then smiled and nodded approvingly. "That makes sense. Maybe I should do that next time I get my yukata dirty."

He laughed, and ruffled her hair. Her disgruntled grimace from under his wet dripping hand only made him laugh more. "Go to bed Kaoru-san. I promise we'll play all morning if you're not busy."

Good humour restored, she scurried back to bed.

* * *

"So it has been confirmed that Battousai is in Edo."

"Yes sir. By several of our people. There has been an assassination, one of our agents working undercover. We are thus far unsure why he was eliminated."

"I see. Captain, you are to go to Edo at once, by yourself. Edo has not yet degenerated to the state that our capital has, and I want to keep things that way. Do not use any overt force. Contact the Oniwabanshuu if you need to. I have already enlisted their aid, and they are finding out exactly where Battousai is."

"Yes sir."

Kondou Isamu leaned back, and watched the retreating form of the Captain of the First Troop. The boy was ill, but did not let it show. He was unsure if Okita Souji would be a match for Battousai in his condition, but he had no one else to spare. Things were starting to accelerate again; he had heard disturbing rumours of a Satsuma-Choshu alliance...

If Battousai died, the Ishin Shishi would be demoralized. Perhaps it would even shake their confidence enough that...

No. There was not only Battousai to deal with, but another shadow assassin, one so secret that the leader of the Shinsengumi did not even know his name. And that was extremely troubling. But with Battousai gone, that would be one worry less.

* * *

_Oro! Sorry if that chapter was pretty boring. I know, more Kenshin angst, blah blah...Do you think his turn about in his mood was too abrupt when Kaoru appeared? Give me feedback, please! And thank you to all reviewers! Oh, I'm on Tales From The Meiji Era now! So you can just look me up there, if you prefer that site. _


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